The Source of His Strength
by d i n o b o t
Summary: Ash is finding his desire to be a Pokemon Master diminishing, and he doesn't know why. How can he go on? While reevaluating his circumstances under the annoyance of the group, he comes to a powerful realization. Who or what can help him? Pokeshipping


**A/N** – AAML one shot. It may initially read like it's not a Pokeshipping story, but it will at the end when everything becomes clear. So bear with me guys. Enjoy.

* * *

**The Source of His Strength**  
by – d i n o b o t

Ash Ketchum exploded into an empty locker room, angrily throwing his league hat clear across the tile floor. The hat fluttered in the air and flopped against the metal lockers on the other side of the room. He groaned irritably, pacing up and down the locker room in complete frustration.

The door cautiously opened as another joined him. The muffled sound of a large crowd's mixed roars and jeers briefly entered the locker room before the door ended the chaotic pandemonium. A spiky haired boy stopped in the threshold, observing his friend's agony. He sighed and sifted through his words to comfort his infuriated companion.

"Ash—" Brock called, with an echo trailing.

The angered boy stopped and turned against Brock, refusing to answer. He did not want his help nor sympathy.

"Ash," he started again, "I'm sorry."

"I don't want your pity, Brock!" he sharply replied.

He placed a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Ash, these things happen. You just need to endure through the hard times."

"Hard times? Hard times? All there is now are hard times!" he shouted, shaking off Brock's gesture of friendship.

"I know you're disappointed, Ash. I know what you're going through--"

"No, you don't!" Ash retorted. "I gave it my all, Brock! I gave all I had and in the end it still wasn't enough!"

He did not lie. Prior to the League Tournament he vigorously trained with his Pokémon for four straight months only to be easily knocked out in the first round of the semi finals. The incident embarrassed Ash Ketchum, ultimately bruising his unshakable confidence. He expected better from himself, and so did everyone else. The ordeal enraged the young boy. He handled his Pokémon like a sloppy rookie trainer with zero experience.

"Ash," Brock began. "What happened out there?"

The young Pokémon trainer groaned in agitation, running his hands through his hair like trying to tear the frustration out of his head. He shook his head in dismay, attempting to gather his dejected thoughts.

"I—I don't know," he finally managed. "I tried my best. It was like I couldn't do anything right!"

Another wave of crowd noise reached their ears. Ash sighed, dropping himself on a bench in the middle of the locker room.

Brock walked up to him. "So... What do you want to do now?"

Ash exhaled deeply and peered into the back of his eyelids, softly rubbing the back of his head.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I need time to sort things out."

"Fair enough."

He rose from his seat and paced toward a small rectangular window. Ash sighed with relief as a warm sun beam entered the glass window and bathed him in light. It came from the outside. It gave him contentment and peace of mind, something he had not felt in some time. The feeling was still elusive and distant but he wanted more. He made up this mind.

"I want to go home."

"Alright. Max and May are outside in the lobby waiting for you. Let's say we spend the night in a hotel and in the morni—"

"No!" Ash interrupted him. He peered out the window again—to the warmth. "I want to go now."

"Okay then," Brock nodded, not daring to conflict with his wishes. "I'll tell the guys," and exited the locker room. The door opened, leaking in another uproar of crowd noise.

He winced to the sound, found his Pokémon hat lying disregarded on the cold tile floor and exited.

* * *

"What!" Ash groaned, slamming his fists on the table. "What do you mean I can't get my Pokémon back from your lab?"

Professor Oak smiled nervously in the video phone. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, my boy. But there's a large electrical storm in Pallet and will interfere with transporting your Pokémon to you. You're Pokémon cannot safely be transferred to you so you're just going to have to wait."

Ash sighed. "But all I have are two Pokémon with me plus Pikachu."

"I'm afraid that will have to do," Professor Oak shrugged. "There's nothing I can do about it."

Ash sunk his head lower, the bill of his hat covering over his eyes.

"Fine," he finally agreed. "I'll come by later and pick the rest of them up."

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me I have important research to tend to about ghost Pokémon physiology," he smiled, oblivious to the state Ash was left. The screen minimized to a small dot and shut off, ending the disappointing phone call.

Ash gave a heavy sigh, grabbed his backpack beside him and stormed out the Pokémon Center.

* * *

"Don't worry Ash," Brock consoled his younger companion. "Once we find a decent place to stop we can eat."

"Oh boy," May smiled, her mouth already beginning to salivate.

The thought of Brock's food did make Ash's nerves heal. He even felt his irritation slowly drain away.

Max's stomach growled. He held it from further announcing its intentions. "Wow, I can eat as much as a Snorlax!"

"There's no use complaining about it," Ash whispered under his breath.

"Just a few more feet, guys. Look!" Brock pointed to a small clearing in the forest, to the delight of the entire group.

"Oh, boy!" May's eyes fluttered. She ran ahead of the boys and entered the grassy clearing, arms outstretched, soaking in the sun's rays. Brock and Max also enjoyed the new showering of warmth. But Ash tucked his face under his hat.

"So," he cleared his throat. "Let's start on that lunch."

Brock laughed. Serving three hungry kids was no easy order. He broke out his supplies and began to prepare the food. Max took his place against a tree stump, and tapped away on his PokéGear.

Ash's stomach wasn't the only thing causing him pain. Though his stomach was dangerously empty, his mind was dangerously full. His thoughts were overwhelming his thinking ability, something experienced rare in Ash's life.

A stinging feeling of agitation engulfed him. The drive of excitement and adventure once fueling him for so long was steadily diminishing—and he didn't know why. Ash certainly did not see this coming. Pokémon training was his passion ever since he was a small child dreaming about becoming the world's greatest Pokémon Master. But the search became futile and stagnant, like grasping after the wind. It was as if he wanted to…

"Something wrong, Ash?" a voice broke his thoughts.

Ash looked at May peering deeply into his distressed eyes. "What? Why?"

"You just seem troubled, that's all," she said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"I really don't know. It's like this doesn't feel right."

"Feel right?" she repeated his words, tilting her head. "What doesn't?"

"This!" Ash spread his arms to encompass everything: the scenery, May, Brock, Max—including himself.

"Is it something Brock, Max or I did?" May asked nervously.

He shook his head to remove her doubt. "No, no that's not it. It's kinda hard to explain but I feel as if I—"

"You're just feeling the blues, Ash," she interrupted. "Everyone gets them, they're just a phase. Wait a little bit and they'll be gone!" May gave a cheery smile and left, unaware of the current mood she left the unsettled Pokemon trainer.

He sighed. Another failing.

"…I feel like I don't want to do this anymore," he whispered, finishing his last sentence. Ash took out his badge kit. Inside were many badges, accumulated in many far regions from many powerful Pokémon Gym Leaders. Ash aimed them towards the sunlight, but for some reason, they did not shine.

Ash frowned. The badges looked dull and lifeless, never once did this happen before. He gazed at them individually: The SpikeShell Badge, the Boulder Badge, the Mineral Badge, the Balance Badge—they looked dead.

"What in the world?" Ash said to himself. "Oh wait!"

A sparkle caught his eye. Only one winked back at him. It was old. Must have been one he earned a long time ago. Ash nervously swallowed under the growing feeling of nostalgia. It was water shaped, blue, sparkling…

He suddenly knew what badge it was and immediately shut his badge case. The symbol gave him chills. He touched his chest -- the tension was gone. He could breathe once again.

That was weird.

* * *

"Here guys, enjoy!" Brock smiled as he featured the lunch he prepared. The shine in Ash, May and Max's eyes agreed with their empty stomachs and driving appetites. With no hesitation, Ash grabbed a piece of food and violently shoved it into his mouth. Immediately, his eyes shot open and spit it out just as violently, coughing and sputtering over the leftover remains.

"Are you okay?" Brock asked. Ash was never one to dislike food, especially Brock's. Ash grabbed a thermos of juice to wash the awful taste from his mouth. He wiped his lips with his sleeve, still cringing to the aftertaste.

"No offense Brock, but the food isn't very good!" Ash glanced May and Max's way, with food in each hand and mouth, staring at him in confusion.

"Whaddah mwean, Ashh?" Max asked, with a mouthful of food.

May took another nibble off the food on her plate. "Tastes fine to me, Ash. Maybe you just got a bad one."

"Excuse me?" Brock glared. There was no way his food would even hint of bad culinary skills. May silenced herself.

"Sorry," she nervously replied. "Maybe it's just Ash then."

"Let me try it." Max leaned over and grabbed the food from his plate. He threw it nonchalantly into his mouth and chewed it evenly. All three waited in anticipation for the verdict.

After a few seconds, Max clutched his hands around his neck, seemingly choking on the food. He gasped for air, squealing: "Ahh, I'm going to die, Brock poisoned this one!" He fell to the floor, laughing uncontrollably, wrapping his arms around his sides to keep them from splitting.

This did not amuse Ash Ketchum. He looked to the rest of the food and sighed.

"I guess I could make something else for you, Ash."

"No," he dismissed him. The hungry boy rose from them and walked away. "I think I'll just take a nap, thanks anyway," he trailed off. Walking to his bed, he ducked in and threw his sleeping bag over his head.

"What's wrong with Mr. Grumpy, ova there?" Max asked, sipping on his juice.

"Beat's me," Brock confessed.

"Don't worry, he's just got the blues," May confidently answered him as she thoughtlessly stuffed more food into her mouth. The group continued their delicious meal—minus one.

* * *

"Pikachu, Thunderbolt!" Ash shouted.

The small rodent Pokémon hummed its name, generating sparks out of the small circles on its cheeks. A bolt of electricity shot from Pikachu's body and headed towards its adversary.

The opponent (a Golduck) stood its ground, refusing to be intimidated by its obvious type disadvantage. Its trainer ordered the counter.

"Golduck, counter with Lightscreen, now!"

Golduck responded by thrusting its blue webbed hands out, eyes glowing purple. A large transparent shield appeared between itself and Pikachu's attack, nullifying the electric bolt.

"Pika?" Pikachu cooed nervously.

Ash grumbled. "Pikachu use your speed! Quick Attack!"

Pikachu ran to the Golduck with blinding velocity. The Golduck's reflexes were too slow to counter in time, resulting in a direct hit. The psychic duck Pokémon winced, picking itself off the dirt.

"Good job, Pikachu! Again!" Ash commanded. Before Pikachu could respond the Golduck attacked. The Golduck's eyes glowed again.

"Use Confusion!" the trainer ordered.

A purple hue surrounded Pikachu, throwing it viciously around the battle field. Pikachu cried in dismay.

"Pikachu, snap out of it!" Ash pleaded. Too late.

"Hyper Beam!"

Golduck high jumped into the air; the blue dot in the middle of its head blasted a large beam into the disoriented rodent. Pikachu wailed in pain. It whimpered on the floor in defeat.

"This match is over," the trainer said recalling his Pokémon.

Ash stood in shocked disbelief. Immediately, he was at his Pokémon's side to hold him in his arms.

"Hey, buddy. Are you okay?"

"Maybe you should keep on training, kid," the trainer advised.

Ash sighed. He bowed his head in defeat, cradling his battered Pokémon against his chest.

* * *

"Is Pikachu okay, Ash?" May asked.

Ash said nothing, still holding Pikachu in his arms. The group walked alongside the path to Pallet Town. Ash remained silent since the battle.

"That was weird," Max commented. "Pikachu obviously had the type advantage to a water Pokémon. So why did it loose?"

"Sometimes it's more of strategy then type," Brock said.

"More like lack of talent," Max grumbled.

"Don't say that, Pikachu tried its best!" May retorted.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." Max apologized. "It's just amazing how that could happen. Are you losing your touch, Ash?"

Ash refused to say a word as if his mind were someplace distant and elusive.

"Ash is a good trainer, besides I bet you couldn't have beaten that Golduck!" May yelled at Max.

"Could too! If I had an electric Pokémon I could have won easily!" Max dismissed her claim.

"Easier said than done, Max!" May argued back. "You'd be a horrible Pokémon trainer!"

"Would not!"

"Would too!"

"Would not!"

"Would too!"

"Now guys, stop fighting," Brock tried to appease them.

"Tell her to take the comment bac—"

"STOP!" Ash screamed. The sudden outburst of anger stunned the group. Brock, May and Max looked at him cautiously.

"No more fighting! Can't you see fighting just makes you drift father apart? Just learn to let things go! If you don't, something bad will happen! Do you want that, huh? You don't want things to become so unbearable someone has to leave! Well?"

"Uh, no" Max responded timidly.

"Sorry," May looked down.

Ash groaned, realizing his outburst of anger was indeed out of place. He rubbed the back of his aching neck. Why was all of this bothering him?

* * *

Ash rushed down the Pallet Town streets alone. He left all of his Pokémon at the Pokémon Center for treatment. Brock, May and Max decided to stay at the center as soon as they realized Ash left without them.

He kept running like he was being chased by something monstrous and inescapable. His circumstances became dull and suffocating like he was not where he desired to be. He wanted to be alive. He wanted to be safe.

"Don't know how much longer I can do this!" he gasped out. The light unnoticeably dimmed from his heart. How was he supposed to go on without the initial fuel? He finally turned to his street and spotted his house. The sight of his childhood did enlighten his mood. He jumped over the white picket fence and ran toward the door.

"Mom!"

A note was taped to the front door. Ash peeled the letter off, opened it and read:

_Dearest Ash,_

_Professor Oak told me you were coming back. I'm sorry honey but I'm not home right now. Mimey and I are on a vacation trip with some friends and will be back in a couple of days. I miss you. I'm sorry about the tournament, we all were cheering for you! See you in a couple of days._

_Love,_

_Mom_

_PS. Make sure you don't forget to change your you-know-whats._

Ash cringed as he finished the last few words. Why did he always have to be reminded of that? Delia Ketchum never missed a single step, even if she absent to tell him directly. Ash blinked, running his hands through his hair. He placed the note back on the door; as he did door cracked open. Ash lifted an eyebrow. It wasn't like Mom not to lock up the house. He could hear noises inside the house too.

Ash opened the door and carefully walked inside.

"Hello?" Ash called in the house.

"Hello?" was his response. He knew the voice well—it was the voice of an angel.

A slim beautiful red head entered the living room to greet him.

"Ash!" she smiled.

"Misty? What are you doing here?"

She looked around the living room. "Your Mom and Mimey went on a trip and she asked me to house sit for her. I had some vacation time from the Gym. She'll be back."

"Uh—yeah."

"Where are the rest of the guys?"

"Back at the PokeCenter," he replied.

"Oh, okay," Misty shrugged. Before she could turn and leave Ash stopped her.

"Misty?"

"Yes, Ash?"

He stared at her intently. He walked up to her, and hugged her like an undeniable magnetism drew them together. Misty stood ridged at first, unprepared for his action.

"It's really good too see you, Misty," Ash whispered delicately.

"Yeah, you too," she laughed, softly hugging him back. "Uh... Ash are you alright?"

Ash smiled, something he had not done in a long time. He held her closer, feeling the claustrophobia of life immediately disappear. He felt lighter, like a giant weight lifted from his mind and heart, uncluttering his thoughts into a clear resolved motivation and purpose. Her presence generated a perfect guiding light, igniting the fire zealously burning within his bones.

"I am now," he gently answered her.

Ash smiled again, holding on to the source of his strength. And suddenly, he could go on forever.

end

* * *

**A/N** – I hope you enjoyed it. AAML hints were slightly subtle then usual but it does make the point how important Misty is to Ash.

Think of the source of your strength. The person fueling your momentum to live. Think how lost you would be if the embodiment of that strength was vacant from your life. How fervent you would be to acquire a small amount of that strength. Isn't that worth waiting for? Isn't that worth fighting for?

reviews are always appreciated.

"_Without my source of strength I am nothing, my dear. You are what fuels my heart, desire, goals and life! Without my strength I am nothing. Without you, my love I am nothing!" - dai_


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